CHAPTER VI.
PARSON GOODHUE AND THE WILD GANDER.
DURING the last year Sally had woven cloth for curtains to her bestbed, and also for the windows of the rooms, when they should befinished; but for the last two or three weeks she and Sally Merrithewhad been very busily employed bleaching the linen, making the curtains,and scouring the woodwork, which had been soiled in the putting up. Itwas not the fashion to paint in those days--everything was scoured.
The cause of this extraordinary industry was at length revealed bySally herself, who said to Ben, “Now that the house is done, I’ve gotgood help, the baby is well, and mother is here, I think we ought tohave a meeting. I’m afraid we shall get to be just like the heathen,for we can’t get to meeting but once or twice in the winter, and nota great deal in the summer. I want Parson Goodhue to come on to theisland, preach a lecture, and make us a real good visit. He’s our oldminister that we have known and loved ever since we were children, andwe haven’t seen him since we were married, except in the pulpit.”
“Nothing would suit me better, and I think we’d better have it rightoff, before Joe goes away with the schooner; then we can bring him onand take him back in her, while she’s sweet and clean.”
“Yes, and we can have Joe and Henry Griffin to sing, and Uncle Isaacto lift the tune. Your father will come, and bring the girls. Theyare first-rate singers; so is Fred Williams; and we can have as goodsinging as they do in the meeting-house on Lord’s day.”
“I’ll go off to-night, and if he can come, we’ll have the meeting nextweek.”
Notwithstanding Ben differed so much from the minister in respect totemperance, it produced not the least alienation of feeling. Ben,though very firm in his opinions, had not a particle of bitterness inhis composition. On the other hand, he was much attached to the pastor,who was a very devoted man, and greatly beloved and respected by hispeople, although he thought him in an error respecting that matter,still his ideas were in harmony with the almost universal sentimentsand practice of the age in which he lived. He was a good man, by nomeans a free liver, and sought what he supposed to be the good of hispeople with all his heart. Wedded to this pernicious habit by earlyusage, and the example of those he had been accustomed to revere asmodels of all that was great and good, he failed to perceive its fataltendency, although the proofs were daily accumulating before his eyes,and also that the distinction between the use and abuse, which he andCaptain Rhines strongly insisted upon, was, in the great majority ofcases, a distinction without a difference.
It was determined, in family conclave, that the lecture should be atfour o’clock, after which all were to sit down to a meat supper, themeats having been roasted beforehand, and served up cold, with hot teaand coffee.
“This will be the first time Mr. Goodhue was ever here, Sally,” saidBen, “and the first time, I expect, in his life, that he was everinvited anywhere to eat and not offered spirit. We’ve got turkeys,ducks, and chickens, enough of everything. We’ll let him and all therest know that it is not for the sake of saving that we don’t putspirit on the table; and you know what Bradish set out to say at thehusking, if Joe Griffin hadn’t knocked the wind out of him.”
Seats were made in the parlor, kitchen, and porch for the audience;but the spare room, which was most elaborately finished, where UncleIsaac had displayed his utmost skill in carved and panel-work, andin which was the buffet, was carefully prepared for the reception ofthe minister. There were curtains to the best bed and windows, whichSally had woven and bleached as white as snow; the bed-ticks werealso woven by her, and filled with the feathers of wild geese she hadpicked herself. The sheets and pillow-cases were scented with orangebalm. On the mantel-piece were some beautiful shells and coral, whichBen had brought home from sea; the secretary, also, which his fatherhad given him, inlaid with various kinds of wood, was in this room.As to the remaining furniture, it was of the homeliest kind, as Benhad not purchased any since his means had increased. The looking-glasswas six inches by eight in size, and the chairs were bottomed with ashsplints. In those old times, instead of painting or carpeting floors,they kept them white by scouring and covering with sand. It was thecustom of housewives, on important occasions, to cover the floor withsand, and then, with the point of a hemlock broom, make marks in thesand resembling the backbone of a herring. Sometimes they depositedthe sand in little heaps, like pepper on the surface of a ham, andrepresenting various figures; but Sally Merrithew went far beyond this.She covered the floor of the minister’s room with the finest of sand,and then, with her fingers, made the exact impress of a little child’snaked foot in different places; also the representation of star-fish,diamonds, horses, oxen, and various other things. This was a vastdeal of work to bestow upon a thing that was destroyed the moment youstepped on it; but it looked very pretty when you first opened thedoor, and that was enough for Sally. If Parson Goodhue only looked atit once, she was more than satisfied.
Clocks were not common then, and time was kept by hour and minuteglasses; and there would not have been any other time-keeper on ElmIsland had not Ben’s profession as a sailor put him in the way ofhaving a watch; but whenever he took his watch with him, Sally resortedto the hour glass, and the sun-mark in the window.
When the day arrived, Ben and Charlie went over in the Perseverance, asshe was now ready for sea, and returned with Joe and his crew, CaptainRhines and his girls, Uncle Isaac, the Hadlocks, and others, amongwhom was Fred Williams. The most important personage of all was ParsonGoodhue. The saucy little craft, her sails limed and snow-white, herdecks white as a holy-stone and sand could make them, her masts scrapedand slushed, with a little yellow ochre in the grease, her hull,mastheads, and spars gayly painted, and rigging fresh tarred, seemed,as she flung the foam from her bows and shot into the little harbor,proud of her burden.
The parson was brought ashore from the vessel in the large canoe; andas the beach was wet, Ben took him in his arms and set him down on thegrass ground, without ruffling a feather; here he was met and welcomedby Sally.
Our young readers might be interested if we should describe the dressof this good man, whose arrival had excited so much interest, andcaused such a commotion, on Elm Island; it was the usual dress of theministers of that day, and quite remarkable.
A dark-blue broadcloth coat of the finest material, with a broad back,wide skirts, and a very long waist. It reached below the knees, thefront edges on both sides being cut to the segment of a circle, fromthe end of the collar to the bottom of the skirts, the two edges justmeeting in the middle over the abdomen, there fastened, when fastenedat all, with a single hook and eye; the collar was quite wide, and laidover flat on the back; there was one row of black enamelled buttons infront, about the size of an old-fashioned Spanish milled dollar, withbutton holes to correspond to the size of the buttons, but which werenever used, as the coat was never fastened except by the single hookand eye. The vest was of black kerseymere, reaching some six inches ormore below the hips, with broad and deep pocket-flaps on each side,covering a capacious pocket. It was buttoned from the hips, close tothe throat, with enamelled buttons as large as an English shilling,and finished round the neck with a narrow collar, three fourths ofan inch wide. The lower corners of the vest were rounded off, so asalways to hang open. To complete the dress, was a pair of dark-bluesmall clothes, buttoned tight around the body above the hips, and wornwithout suspenders, as they had not then been invented. A pair of heavyblack silk stockings reached above the knee, under the small clothes,which were buttoned down close over the stockings below the knee,and there fastened by silver buckles. On his feet he wore a pair ofround-toed shoes with short quarters, and fastened by a pair of largesilver buckles that covered the whole of the instep. On his head hewore a large full-bottomed wig of silvery whiteness, fitting close tothe head, the hair from the whole head being shaved twice a week, topermit the wig to fit close to the head. The back part of this wig,on the “bottom,” as it was technically called, was very large, andconsisted of a
mass of curls, of the kind that young ladies now callfrizzled; and as the collar of the vest was narrow, and the collar ofthe coat laid flat on the back, the bottom of the wig could reach quitenear to the shoulders without interfering with any part of the dress.Surmounting all was a large three-cornered cocked hat of the finestbeaver, but without any nap; this, with cravat and ample bands underthe chin, both of snowy whiteness, formed the costume of the venerableman, who, on the beach of Elm Island, received the congratulations ofSally and Mrs. Hadlock, and was regarded by these rebellious Yankees,who had recently flung off the yoke of monarchy, with a veneration asgreat as that of a true-bred Briton for his anointed king.
In cold weather this dress was supplemented by a long blue broadclothcloak, with a small cape, thrown over the shoulders, but neverfastened in front. In this dress, with no covering for his legs fromthe knee to the foot except silk tight-fitting stockings, without bootsor buskins (the latter being much worn by all except seamen, to keepthe snow out of the shoes), he preached sermons three quarters of anhour in length, in a meeting-house without fire, and quite open.
Why the good man did not freeze is to us a mystery only to be solved byconcluding, with Aunt Molly Bradish, that “‘twas all ordered.”
At the meeting they got along splendidly with their singing, UncleIsaac lifting the tune and taking the lead. The whole company thoughtthey had never heard such a sermon; that the good man excelled himself;while _he_ spoke in the highest terms of the singing.
In respect to the supper, it needed not the encomiums freely lavishedupon it, as the performances of the reverend gentleman and allconcerned afforded more substantial evidence than figures of rhetoriccould furnish of their appreciation of its merits.
In short, it was a most pleasant and profitable season to all. Noone seemed to enjoy himself less, not even Captain Rhines and theminister, for the lack of spirit.
“One thing is sartin, Benjamin,” said Uncle Isaac, as they sat downtogether in the porch, to enjoy a quiet pipe; “which is, that peoplecan enjoy themselves, be sociable and neighborly, without liquor.”
“Yes, and feel better after it’s over,” was the reply.
Capacious as Ben’s house now was, it could by no means lodge allthe company. A field bed was made in the parlor and kitchen, withadditional bed-clothes which Ben had borrowed from his mother and Mrs.Hadlock.
The schooner’s crew slept on board; Fred and Charlie, to their entiresatisfaction, in the haymow, as it was long since they had met, andthey had many things to talk over.
They dug a great hole in the hay and lined it with the mainsail of theWest Wind, got a meal bag and stuffed it with chaff for a pillow, thentaking the foresail for a covering, they lay spoon-fashion, and talkedthemselves to sleep.
“Charlie,” said Fred, “I’ll tell you what I’ve been thinking about:there are a good many people that fish in big canoes; they catch agreat many fish in the spring and summer, and even in the winter, whenthere comes a spell of good weather, that they dare go out, because,you know, they have to row in. Well, they say, if I will put some goodsin the mill, that they will bring their fish to me, and take pay ingoods. Then some that fish in schooners, say, if I will put up someflakes, they will bring their fish to me, and give me one quintal infifteen for making them.”
“I’d do it, Fred; I think you’ll stand in your own light if you don’t;you know you’ve got a wharf at the mill to land fish and goods, anda place in your mill for your goods, measures, a scale and weights,counter and shelves: you are all fixed.”
“Not by a good deal. If I take fish from the canoes, I must have afish-house to salt and keep them in, and a pair of large scales toweigh them, and the fish-house must be large enough to store a fare offish, or two or three, till they are made and marketed. Then it willcost something to put up flakes; though father says he’ll give me thetimber to build the house and flakes, and let me use his oxen to haulthe timber to the spot, and the logs to the mill for the boards. Butthen I can’t sell these fish till fall, and in the mean time I mustbuy salt and goods, and I don’t like to run in debt. I have but littlemoney, and I ain’t one of the kind to go into a thing without makingsome kind of calculation as to how I’m coming out.”
“I’ll tell you what you do, Fred: go and cut your frame, and logs forboards; haul your frame logs to the spot, and roll them up on skids allready to hew, and your logs for boards to the mill; cut and haul yourstuff for flakes; Joe Griffin won’t be gone more than a fortnight orthree weeks; when he comes back, I’ll get him and his crew, father, andsome more, and we’ll hew your frame out, raise it, and make your flakesin two days. I can board and shingle it, and make the doors for you,and you can pay me in goods.”
“You are very kind, Charlie; it’s just like you; but even with allthese helps, I’ve not half money enough; three hundred and fiftydollars won’t go far in buying goods.”
“What kind of goods do you want?”
“The most, of molasses, tea, coffee, and salt. O, I forgot the tobacco.Rum I don’t drink, and won’t sell. These are the heaviest. I shall wantsome sugar, nails, a few pots and kettles, medicines, calico, powderand shot; the rest I can barter for round here. You know it takes agood while, and is a great deal of expense, to get goods from Portlandor Boston here. You must be able, when you go, to buy enough at once tolast a good while.”
“Now, Fred, listen to me: you, John, and myself have always beentogether, like the fingers on one hand; we put our ventures into yourhands, and you did well for yourself and us: now, what is to hinderJohn and me from putting more goods in your store to sell at halfprofits. I’ve got four hundred dollars, John has got three hundreddollars; there’s seven hundred dollars: we’ll put that into tea andcoffee; we’ll get Captain Rhines to go to Boston or Portland, and buyit for us, put it in your hands to sell at half profits; then you canhave your own money to get other things. You can put a few goods in,and go right to taking fish from the canoes, and by the time the largevessels get along, we will get our goods.”
“Charlie, you are a friend indeed; but will John be willing to do it?”
“Yes; John Rhines will be willing to do anything that is good andnoble. He started the matter the first time; I mean to get the startof him now. I’ll write to him to-morrow; there’s a vessel going toPortland with timber, and the money is over to his father’s.”
“Then,” said Fred, “I’ll go to Portland in her, and get a few things. Ican salt the fish in our barn till I get the fish-house built, and putany dry fish I may make in the mill.”
“I don’t believe but I can coax Joe Griffin to go in, and Flour; he’sgot money in Captain Rhines’s hands; I know father will.”
It now being well towards morning, they went to sleep. The next day,Charlie not only persuaded Joe Griffin, but Uncle Isaac and his father,to help Fred.
“I’ll tell you,” said Captain Rhines, “what you had better do. It’s apoor calculation for Fred to take what he has got and go buy a smallquantity--he can’t make anything. I’ll take him and Charlie in thePerseverance, and we’ll go right to Boston and get the whole. I’ll getMr. Welch to buy for me; he will do it better than I can.”
“But we’ve not heard from John,” said Charlie.
“Well, I’ve got the money, and I’ll take it with me. We’ll run intoPortland and ask him. I’ll get Flour to put his in. I’ll put in the teaand tobacco, because I expect to trade with Fred, and I want to be surethat they’re good.”
The company now prepared to depart; but Ben persuaded Parson Goodhue tostay, telling him that the vessel was going to Boston the next day,and they would set him ashore at the mill wharf as they went along.
While Ben and Charlie were gone to the main land with their friends,the minister was left with Sally and Mrs. Hadlock. He amused himselfby taking a walk over the island, admiring its beauty, and looking atthe crops. Charlie had told him he had a wild goose and gander, andalso some goslings, the progeny of a tame goose and the wild gander.After returning to the house and res
ting a while, he expressed a strongdesire to see them.
“I can find them, Mrs. Rhines, if you will tell me in what direction togo.”
“I don’t think you had better go alone, sir, for the gander is in thepen, and is quite cross.”
“Indeed, Mrs. Rhines, I trust you don’t think I’m afraid of a goose.”
But Sally persisted in going with him.
The reverend gentleman was very much pleased with the goslings, whobore a strong resemblance to both parents; but he was especiallydelighted with the wild gander, which was a splendid fellow, and, frombeing well fed, was large and plump.
“I feel that I must get over in the pen, Mrs. Rhines; the gander seemsperfectly docile.”
“Don’t, Mr. Goodhue, I beg of you; he is very savage, I assure you.”
He, however, persisted in getting into the pen, despite her entreaties.
“Only observe how affectionate and quiet he has become in captivity;intercourse with human beings has doubtless exerted an amelioratinginfluence upon his naturally savage nature: you will notice, Mrs.Rhines, that he does not open his mouth and siss, as even the tameganders will do; indeed, I have always thought the study of naturalhistory a most delightful and fascinating recreation: it is, in onesense, a revelation.”
As we have before observed, suspenders were not worn in those days; andany exertion often caused the breeches to work down, and the waistcoatto work up, so as to render the linen visible between them.
PARSON GOODHUE AND THE WILD GANDER. Page 105.]
In walking over the island and climbing the fence, the good man had soexerted himself, that a large fold of shirt appeared, and hung over thewaistband. The gander came up to him, put his head very gently againsthim, took hold of it, and, while the attention of the minister wasdirected to the goslings and the tame goose, filled his mouth with thecloth; at length, having with the utmost gentleness obtained a firmhold, the gander suddenly spread his great wings and began to thrashthe minister about the head and face, with the force of so many flails.His cocked hat was knocked off in an instant; the wig followed suit.Blinded and confused, he jumped back, falling prostrate upon his back:he was now at the mercy of his antagonist, who, with the knobs of hornon his wings, inflicted blows upon his face and bare scalp, that drewblood at every stroke, the wild goose seconding the efforts of her mateby viciously nipping his legs and hands.
His screams were heard by Sally, who, deceived by the apparent goodnature of the gander, had gone to the house to see to the baby. Shethrew her shawl over the gander’s wings, and seizing him by the neck,choked him off, and thrust him into the pen made for the tame goose tosit in, then assisted the parson to rise.
He was indeed in a sorry plight; the blood was streaming from his faceand scalp, his clothing was soiled by the impurities of the yard, hisface covered with straw and feathers which the wings of the gander hadflung over him, and that stuck in the blood. The wild goose, with thatstrong, sharp bill, with which they will pull up eel-grass by theroots, had torn holes in the black silk stockings, and even torn theskin beneath.
Sally was affected to tears by this wholesale desecration of theperson of one she had been accustomed from infancy to look up to withreverence. The wig, which had been the great object of her veneration,and the cocked hat were trampled under foot by the parson in his firstattempts to escape. This, indeed, was no trifling matter, as the wigcould only be dressed and curled once a year; and for this it wasnecessary to go to Boston, and it took a professional hairdresser awhole day.
The good man, however, was much less disturbed than Sally, and afterhe had been put to rights by her and Sally Merrithew, took quite acheerful view of the matter, affirming, that though Paul passed throughmany perils, he much doubted whether he had ever been in peril by awild gander.